In the grand throne room of the Kesseon Kingdom, King Fergus was casually cleaning the grime from between his teeth. A man with a heavy pot belly, he lounged on the throne with one leg crossed over the other, lazily issuing his next command.
"Bring that foolish player here. Immediately."
Moments later, the heavy doors of the throne room creaked open. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped inside. Blond hair fell to his shoulders, framing cold, piercing blue eyes and a jaw sharp enough to cut steel. He was Constantine—the Wrath Champion.
He gave a low, respectful bow before fixing his gaze on the relaxed but imposing figure of the king.
"Speak," the king said.
